As Fashion Week draws closer -

I have to own up that I really don't think I'm going to win. I'm not a scenester, I'm not tall or thin, and yeah, a little too ethnic for people to be comfortable with.

With that out of the way, voting is still going on, so if you haven't, go ahead and do so:

[link]

Since I've "officially" announced my retirement on the MM page as well, I feel like this mix of relief and, "OH god." The "OH god" sentiment comes more from, "This world is pulling me in and I can't let that happen." A simple look through other people's galleries is like enough to remind me why I'm so not going to win this or be any kind of model. It keeps raking out and up what needs to be healed, and fuck, I just need to stop it.

But on a more positive note - I have been buying crayons. Yes, crayons. Chris, noticing my little purchases, has more or less made me draw him something every other day, depending if I'm whiny and tired (and thusly too petulant to do anything no matter how much he asks), and it's been a lot of fun. I need to hook up my scanner to show the world my crappy doodles and proof that I am somewhat back on the saddle. Between that and watching a lot of Batman, I'm like, "I think I can do this again."

I hate seeing my writing dated. The last time I worked on anything at length was like, '07. In that time, I should have finished it and had it out for the world to see by now. I can't believe my half-assed attempt at modeling too up all that time with so little...results, I guess. What I hate the most about my writing is that I go back and read it (yes I find my own writing extremely entertaining, I am such an egotist), and then get to a gaping stop, and say, "What the hell happened to the rest of the story?" I have a lovely pace built up, I'm involved, I see little quibbles that I fix and the story's fallen into the goddamn Sarlaac pit.

What the Christ, K? Seriously?

A post to a friend's journal sums up my issue with how I look/feel:

"A large part of my issue is that I cannot reconcile who I really am and want to be (respected, strong, and powerful) with what the world deems as beautiful. It is only through the grace of whatever deity that watches my steps that at the end of the day I am true to myself, but still left mourning what could be, what could have been, if I leaned more to the right than to the left."

Fuck. I wanted to be cool like Grace Jones - intelligent, powerful, cunning, beautiful, and most of all, respected. Apparently that does not mesh too well with what is hot, but fuck, I'm still me at the end of the day.

Most importantly, though - thank you EVERYONE who has shown me support, if that's been through voting or just leaving me a comment here and there. I really do appreciate it, and it makes the difference between a good or a bad day for me.

Fuck, I gotta pee.

-K!